


when my love reaches to me

by yadoiangel



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: ?????, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Chocolatier Tendou Satori, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, Hurt/Comfort, I have been told this has that, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Post-Timeskip, Pro Volleyball Player Ushijima Wakatoshi, Sick Fic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Volleyball Idiot in Love with a Chocolatier, it's not that heavy i swear, minor semi eita/shirabu kenjirou - Freeform, promise rings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:00:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29108229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yadoiangel/pseuds/yadoiangel
Summary: Ushijima had said “I don’t want you to leave,” later—much later—when he had officially passed on the captainship, when the team had done its last hundred serves as Ushijima knew them, when they had cleaned everything else up and it was only Tendou and Ushijima left in the gym, both stalling for reasons the other didn’t know—yet.Tendou had said “Then I’m not gonna leave you,” and then.And then.Here they were, years later and continents apart.It was alright though, in Ushijima’s opinion. It was only distance, and they could easily surmount that. It was also only for a period of their lives, approximately ten to fifteen, and they had promised the rest to each other already.Orwhere Ushijima decides to surprise his boyfriend with a visit, and then.
Relationships: Background Semi Eita/Shirabu Kenjirou, Tendou Satori/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 9
Kudos: 93





	when my love reaches to me

**Author's Note:**

> For Sam, who gave me such a great plot to work with that I churned this out in a weekend when the last time I wrote some 4k oneshot in the same time-frame was last year. Thank you, and I hope you like it!

Ushijima didn’t tell Tendou he was coming.

How could he? The athlete had already missed the opening of _Chocolat du Japon_ , not to mention being unable to visit the chocolaterie—and his boyfriend—for a few more weeks because he had been caught up in the after-season pledges and promotional projects for the next one, so _of course_ the moment he could get away, he took it.

He packed a bag that only fit essentials for a week and booked the next ticket to Lyon. He exchanged only the most cursory of words with the red-head, and then told himself it would be a surprise to assuage the odd knot of guilt that he found clogging his throat.

 **toshi  
**the interview is done. I’m getting some rest now. I hope you are too.  
_sent 11:13 am_

 **sato <3  
**I can’t wait to watch it! What did they ask you? Do you have another one?  
_received 11:15 am_

Ushijima frowned to himself, and then double-checked the saved time zones for their respective cities. He frowned harder when he saw that it was past 3:00 am in Lyon.

 **toshi  
**isn’t it late for you? why are you still up?  
_sent 11:16 am_

 **sato <3  
**oh, hush. you know i sometimes stay up late to watch your interviews, right? it’s no big deal.  
_received 11:18 am_

 **toshi  
**still, i would like for you to sleep now. my interviews will still be there in the morning, but you need your rest.  
_sent 11:19 am_

 **sato <3  
**oui oui i’m going to bed now (｀∀´)  
go get em toshi <3  
_received 11:21 am_

And thus started the foreboding feeling that shadowed Ushijima throughout his flights. It was… uncomfortable, to say the least, because Ushijima was a person who didn’t leave anything to chance—to avoid this exact feeling. He worked hard and he accounted for every possibility he could think of just to be prepared for any scenario that he might be faced with.

This was a habit he had instilled in himself ever since his father told him “You have a gift, but that’s not enough if you wanted to go far in life.”

While it has only largely applied to volleyball, ever since high school and meeting the freak duo, it was almost too easy to include the relationships he had in that kind of planning.

He thanked Kageyama years later when they became teammates, even though the setter only gave him a confused welcome.

It was thanks to them that he was able to build a relationship of a different kind with Tendou, after all.

Ushijima didn’t even know how they started if he was being honest with himself. He had never thought of relationships outside of volleyball, outside of how his teammates could and should interact to have a better understanding of each other on the court, outside of the back pats and congratulations.

Tendou had told him “After high school, I don’t think I’m gonna continue playing volleyball anymore,” and all of Ushijima’s early notions of teams and friendships went out the window, his chest aching too much at the thought of not having the middle blocker by his side even though objectively, he saw it coming and had prepared for it.

Ushijima had said “I don’t want you to leave,” later—much later—when he had officially passed on the captainship, when the team had done its last hundred serves as Ushijima knew them, when they had cleaned everything else up and it was only Tendou and Ushijima left in the gym, both stalling for reasons the other didn’t know—yet.

Tendou had said “Then I’m not gonna leave you,” and then.

And then.

Here they were, years later and continents apart.

It was alright though, in Ushijima’s opinion. It was only distance, and they could easily surmount that. It was also only for a period of their lives, approximately ten to fifteen, and they had promised the rest to each other already.

Ushijima had already accepted an offer from a Polish team, even. It was a strong team, and he was sure he could only grow with them. It made him closer to Tendou, too—ten thousand kilometers cut down to only one, a 17-hour flight time transforming to only four, 8-hour time difference disappearing in a blink.

It was… optimal.

Ushijima just hoped that it wouldn’t be all for nothing.

He’d only experienced this kind of foreboding twice in his life before—once during that pivotal moment playing against Karasuno in high school, and then again when he’d received a phone call in the middle of a match two years ago telling him that Tendou was in the hospital because he had fainted, and Ushijima was his emergency contact.

He hoped he wouldn’t be met with a similar situation to either of those, though the fact that Tendou was up at 3am again didn’t make him _that_ hopeful.

The thing was, when the red-head had decided on an activity, a goal, or a path to walk on, there was nothing that could stop him from achieving it. It was one of the things that endeared him to the taller athlete, though Ushijima later found out how that could be detrimental, too.

There was nothing that could stop Tendou from achieving it—not exhaustion, not hunger, and certainly not the littler obstacles, either, like a language barrier or the fact that people found him…unsettling.

He removed those obstacles with ease, learning Français and how to charm the people, too, and that was how he was able to start and build his own chocolaterie amongst the more famous people in the country, getting to where he was now.

It was still endearing to Ushijima, how they were so alike in that way, but it also scared him, too. The difference between them was that Tendou still hasn’t seen the benefits of rest and a full stomach despite being in the culinary arts—it was the art more than the sustenance that interested him anyway; that was why he chose to practice in artisanal chocolate rather than daily fare, and so he had a stronger drive to ignore those seemingly superficial needs, working himself to the ground until he was a step closer to a goal.

That was what made him faint two years ago in college, staying up late and skipping meals to devour his French lessons at a faster pace, so he could finally find a master he could apprentice under. That was also the time Ushijima vowed to himself that he would be the one to help Tendou realize the importance of rest and nourishment.

He can’t have his boyfriend fainting on him when he gives him the ring, after all.

It was already tucked in his pocket—had been for the past month since he accepted that offer, without the box because it was too conspicuous—and he was just waiting for the right time now, which was also simpler than he thought it’d be going by the online articles he’d read about proposing.

Finding the right time was easy when all their time together was precious.

And so Ushijima got off the plane with ambivalent emotions, his desire to move forward with his plans eclipsed by his worry that he might not find the right time this time.

Still, Ushijima moved on persistently, one foot in front of the other since that first step on the tarmac, his Frenchpassable enough to get a cab to the third arrondissement where Tendou’s shop was located—a prominent place for such a young shop, and a testament to the work he had put in.

It was almost 8pm when he exited the cab, having gotten stuck in a bit of traffic, having spent more than a day in flights and in between just to get here, and an hour after the shop was supposed to be closed. Pride lined Ushijima’s shoulders as he walked up to the entrance, appraising the storefront with appreciative eyes. The anticipation rose in him when the door opened even before he could knock, though his shock quickly overpowered it when he finally got a good look at Tendou—skinnier than the last time they saw each other, with heavy bags on each of his shoulders and under his eyes, looking like he was one foot into the grave.

“Oh, Toshi, it’s you again,” Tendou greeted with a sedate smile when the red-head saw him, though the greeting had Ushijima’s eyebrows furrowing.

“What do you mean, Sato? I just got here,” Ushijima pointed out, and _then_ Tendou finally startled, his eyes widening comically before closing entirely, his body losing strength as he fainted.

It was fortunate that Ushijima was there to catch him this time, though the bags he was holding dropped right to the ground.

“Sato?” Ushijima called out, a panic he had never felt before rising up in him as Tendou continued on being unresponsive.

Ushijima whirled around with the red-head in his arms, trying to think of a course of action when he caught sight of the door to the shop. It was still ajar, and so Ushijima heaved his boyfriend higher in his arms, striding into the lobby and right to the back section, spotting a bench that he deemed good enough before setting the chocolatier down on it.

He whipped out his phone, blindly dialing Semi’s number as he went back outside to retrieve the bags that he ignored.

“Oh, Ushiwaka, what—” Semi’s sleepy voice answered.

“He fainted again,” Ushijima cut off, gathering the tote straps in one hand and carrying them just inside the door before locking up, “Tendou, I mean. Right when saw me, too.”

“What? Why? How is he?” Semi’s alarmed voice asked, and Ushijima dimly recalled that it was much later in Sendai now.

“I don’t know,” Ushijima answered, “I… don’t know what to do.”

Semi sat up in bed, the helpless tone in Ushijima’s confession propelling him to shake the other person in it even though it was late.

“Kenji, wake up,” Semi called out, and at the scowl that was already forming on the younger man’s face, added, “Ushiwaka called. He needs your help.”

“What is it?” Shirabu sighed, rubbing at his eyes.

“He says Tendou fainted again.”

“What?” Shirabu took the phone, his tone already sharpening to a point, “Ushijima-san, can you tell me exactly what happened? How is he? Did he say anything? Where are you?”

“We’re inside his shop, and it’s closed now. I don’t think he’s doing well, Shirabu. He looks like he lost some weight, and I’m sure he’s not sleeping right again. He said _‘Oh Toshi, it’s you again,’_ right before he fainted,” Ushijima recounted, going back to the back room and turning on a fan to aim at the bench, fetching a glass of water just in case.

“Check if he’s breathing, and if there’s anything that’s hindering that like a tight collar, remove it. Make sure you’re in a well-ventilated area,” Shirabu instructed, his mind racing through the possibilities, “Calm down, Ushijima-san, I don’t think this is severe.”

“I am calm,” Ushijima answered shortly, picking up a thin piece of cardboard from a desk and using that to fan the red-head in addition to the oscillating fan.

“Please don’t insult our friendship,” Shirabu snorted, “I know you well enough to pick up on your panic. This is Tendou-san we’re talking about.”

“What would you do if Semi was the one who fainted?” Ushijima asked after a beat, a silent acquiescence.

“I’m a trained medical professional, Ushijima-san. We’d react differently no matter who it is,” Shirabu pointed out.

Ushijima finally sighed, shaking his head at himself in silent beration, breathing in deep in an effort to calm himself down.

“Now, are you ready to listen?” Shirabu asked after a few moments had passed, and Ushijima couldn’t help but chuckle at how well the younger man did indeed seem to know him so well.

“What do I do?” Ushijima asked again, and this time it wasn’t the helpless plea that he asked Semi earlier; this time it was the matter-of-fact tone of Ushijima as the public knew him, strong and stoic.

“I think he’s probably gonna wake up soon. From what you’ve told me it sounds like he’s not taking care of himself again, so this is most likely caused by low blood sugar, which is ironic because Tendou-san owns a fucking chocolaterie,” Shirabu snorted, and Semi hit him in the thigh in warning.

“Be polite,” Semi scolded, and Shirabu only rolled his eyes.

“What? I’m right, aren’t I?” Shirabu shot back, and Ushijima had to clear his throat so the couple would get the hint.

“What do I do after that?” the athlete followed up.

“Let him rest. Feed him if he hasn’t eaten already, and maybe take the next couple of days off? How long will you be there for?” Shirabu continued, though he was still glaring at the gray-haired man.

“I have a week here,” Ushijima answered, looking down at Tendou and running the back of his fingers across his cheek.

“That’s perfect. Take him to a doctor to get checked, but otherwise make him stay home and take a break. I’m sure with the stress of opening the shop and not being able to sleep, it’s gotta be hard on him. Don’t worry, Ushijima-san, he’ll be alright.” Shirabu reassured.

“…Thank you, Shirabu, Semi. I’m sorry for waking you up in the middle of the night,” Ushijima tried to get out around the guilty knot in his throat, though Shirabu only snorted again.

“No need for thanks, please. Tell Tendou-san I’ll kick his butt if he doesn’t listen to you, okay?” Shirabu grinned, and handed the phone to Semi.

“I’ll be sure to do that,” Ushijima chuckled despite himself, “And really—thank you, Shirabu.”

“You know he still doesn’t know how to take your thanks, right?” came Semi’s voice, and Shirabu launched himself at the older man, toppling them over the sheets.

“Go back to sleep, the two of you. I’ll call back tomorrow with news,” Ushijima said in a tone that brooked no arguments.

“Good luck, Ushiwaka,” Semi struggled to reply amidst attacks from the younger man, and then hung up.

Ushijima was left staring at the red-head in the resulting quiet, contemplative.

It was no secret to him that most people thought of him as emotionless, that it was _strong_ of him, as if strength was the lack of feeling. He wasn’t expressive, true, and he was blunt to a fault, and for some reason, people thought he couldn’t pick up on social cues.

Ushijima just didn’t _care,_ was the issue—if he could get his point across in the most direct manner, then he would. He can pick up social cues just fine, it’s that he didn’t care enough to let these cues dictate his actions.

What he _did_ let dictate his actions were his emotions—more than he would ever admit.

Desire was a strong entity inside Ushijima, something that was born somewhere in his guts when he was young, and something that was nurtured first by his father, then by him, then it started feeding itself with every win, with every loss, with every new technique he has yet to master, with every opponent that he viewed as stronger than him.

Ushijima ran a hand down Tendou’s face again, once, then twice, then again when he just couldn’t seem to get his fill—everything in him wanted to take everything of the red-head’s, but he restrained himself. This was a desire that was familiar now too, though still young in him compared to his other hungers. Still, he wanted to devour everything of Tendou’s, wanted his skin to touch every inch of the other man’s, wanted all of their time to be spent together. It was an all-consuming want, Ushijima knew—something that he shouldn’t feed—but he was helpless, subjected to this desire’s whims, and, if he was being honest with himself, there was also a part of him that didn’t want to fight against it.

His eyes caught a flash of silver, and it was just then that he realized he was roaming his eyes over his boyfriend, attentive and yet taking nothing in. He focused now, taking in a keychain, and his eyes widened at the kanji charm on the end of it.

Before he could do anything about it, though, Tendou woke up.

“Toshi?” he called out, voice uncharacteristically soft, “Did I really see you?”

“How much have you hallucinated me that you doubt my presence now, Sato?” Ushijima leaned towards him and murmured back.

His heart broke just a little bit at how Tendou zeroed in on him, eyes catching his, a hand coming up and clutching Ushijima’s arm so tightly the taller man knew there would be half moon indents in his skin.

It was alright, though—he knew this desire well, after all.

“It really is you,” Tendou breathed out, finally accepting that simple fact, “Wha—? Why are you here? When did you get in? Toshi, you didn’t give me any warning—”

“I thought it’d be a good surprise,” Ushijima said, leaning back and training his eyes on the prone man on the bench, “I thought you’d like it. Did you mean warning as in to hide from me, though?”

“I—” there was a wild look in Tendou’s eyes, his hand tightening on Ushijima’s arm, and that was all the answer the athlete needed.

“Tendou,” Ushijima said, voice low and serious, “You will get checked up, and then you’ll get rest for as long as I’m here. Are we clear?”

“But—”

“Are. We. Clear?” Ushijima asked, eyes intense and a frown marring his stoic face.

“Oui, yes, okay, d’accord,” Tendou relented, not having the strength to push back against his boyfriend like he usually did.

Maybe some rest _will_ do him good, if he was feeling so submissive like this.

And so Ushijima went about, calmly asking him if he was feeling okay enough to stand, to drink, to eat, calmly asking him when his last meal was, how much sleep he’d been getting the past few weeks.

Calmly blinking at him when Tendou answered less than satisfactorily, saying his last meal was this morning before opening shop, that he had been sleeping no more than three hours a night ever since opening, too busy perfecting the dine-in menu that he had been planning ever since he realized that his shop could outdo those around the area if he did.

Calmly blinking at him as he absorbed the news, then saying “You’re sleeping a full eight hours tonight, and then calling your doctor first thing in the morning.”

It was frightening for Tendou, to say the least, seeing his boyfriend shut down and shut him out like this, even though the red-head knew he was the one to cause it, even though he knew Ushijima thought he was doing what was best for him.

Still, he went with it meekly, too exhausted to protest, giving in to the desire to let the taller man handle everything after weeks of pushing himself to his limit. He would be lying if he said he didn’t like it, and he was too tired to deny even that.

That was how they went home to a pied-à-terre, with Ushijima carrying their bags and one of Tendou’s arms slung around his shoulders. His living space was small, but it was enough for him and for Ushijima to comfortably share over the course of the week.

Ushijima eyed him and his desk filled with papers and lists and recipes and plans, silently judging as Tendou placed his bags on top of it.

“You will not touch any of that for a week,” Ushijima declared, and the red-head only rolled his eyes.

“Oui, monsieur. Quoi que vous décidiez,” he said, some of his usual energy coming back to sass the athlete.

“I mean it,” Ushijima glared, “And I know the difference between vous and tu.”

“Slip of the tongue, Toshi,” Tendou amended, and Ushjima was satisfied enough to steer him towards a seat at the table.

“We will eat, and then sleep. What do you want?” Ushijima asked, turning his back on Tendou to face the counters, looking in cabinets for ingredients.

“Hmm,” Tendou leaned on his hand on the table, watching the muscles work under his boyfriend’s clothes. Ushijima hadn’t even taken off his sweater yet, and even the red-head could smell the flight scent on him. “How about a kiss? You haven’t so much as kissed me since you got here.”

“That’s because you fainted on me,” Ushjima pointed out, planting both his hands on the counter and stilling.

“Oui, but then again, you know what they say to wake up Sleeping Beauty, don’t you?” Tendou’s lips curled to the side, but he was once again startled out of it when Ushijima whirled around, flames in his eyes.

“How I wish it was that easy,” he started, glaring at the red-head, “Kissing you and having all your ailments disappear. Not having to worry whether or not you’re taking care of yourself because I can fix it all with a kiss. Do you even hear what you’re saying, Tendou?”

“Toshi—I didn’t mean—” Tendou tried saying, but Ushijima slammed a hand on the table when he was close enough.

“I could have lost you, Sato,” Ushijima said to his face, and then sighed, sitting opposite him, “I didn’t know what to do. I was so scared. I...”

And then to their collective surprise, Ushijima blinked tears out of his eyes.

“Whoa, hey, what’s going on?” Tendou asked, panicking out of his chair to kneel in front of the athlete. “Toshi?”

Ushijima stared at him, his eyes roving up and down the red-head’s kneeling form. Seeming to find what he was looking for, he pulled out a keychain of his own from his pocket, similar to the one on Tendou’s belt loop, the one with the ‘toshi’ kanji. 

This one had the kanji for ‘sato.’

“I still don’t want you to leave,” Ushijima said simply, staring at the silver engraved symbol in his hand, “But why do you make it so easy for you to?”

“I’m not—” Tendou started.

“Yes, you are,” Ushijima argued, almost petulantly, raising Tendou’s eyebrows. “You don’t take care of yourself the way you’re supposed to. You don’t eat or sleep right, and I know you put too much energy into being pleasant with other people. Those acts are disservices to yourself, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you contract an ulcer or diabetes or—”

“Hey, hey, I’m still here, n’est-ce pas?” Tendou soothed, crowding in Ushijima’s space when it looked like the athlete was about to panic, “I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not going to get sick, okay?”

“You don’t know that,” Ushijima countered, still petulantly, not quite pouting but Tendou knew him enough to know that he was practically stomping his feet, “There are things that are easily contractible with a weak immune system.”

“And you’re not a doctor, so you don’t know I’m gonna get sick, either,” Tendou challenged, raising an eyebrow and hiding a smile behind his hand when Ushijima only stared at him.

“That was the second time tonight someone said that to me,” the athlete answered, and then he sighed, this big exhalation that had Tendou tipping back, and then.

And then Ushijima was hauling him up into his arms, placing the red-head on his lap and securing him in by wrapping his arms all around Tendou’s torso, and then.

And then they were kissing, their lips touching oh so sweetly, Ushijima cradling his head closer with one hand, Tendou wrapping his own arms around the athlete’s broad shoulders.

They kissed like they couldn’t believe it was happening, with an air of tentativeness that they couldn’t blame each other for, so sweet and aching it took their breath away. It was a life-affirming kiss, not only for Tendou but for Ushijima too, letting each other know of their presence, letting each other bask in the other’s vitality, letting themselves be devoured because they knew they were being given the same courtesy.

“Is that why you’re so angry with me?” Tendou murmured against Ushijima’s lips as the kiss wound down. “You’re afraid?”

“I was never angry,” Ushijima denied, and Tendou’s heart broke to realize he didn’t deny the fear. “I was disappointed. You promised to take care of yourself, Sato.”

“I’m sorry,” Tendou said sincerely, leaving light kisses all over Ushijima’s face in apology, “Désolé, mon lumièr, I didn’t think it’d matter to you so much.”

“Why do you only anchor your well-being to me so much? Shouldn’t it matter to you too?” Ushijima asked, frowning when Tendou only chuckled.

“I know it should, but you know it just doesn’t. Would you rather I have no anchor at all?” Tendou shot back, and the athlete sighed.

“No, but you know I’m going to make you realize it one of these days,” Ushijima said seriously, and Tendou was thrilled to see the familiar flame of competition in his boyfriend’s eyes.

“I would be delighted to see you try,” Tendou said promptly, and then he was up in the air, Ushijima lifting and spinning him like he was nothing, crows of laughter being startled out of him as Ushijima’s own chuckles joined in.

Perfect moment.

Tendou was set down in his chair again, Ushijima’s hand leaving a lingering touch on his cheek before the athlete knelt in front of him this time, taking something out of his pocket.

“Here’s my attempt,” Ushijima said, holding up a simple golden band in the space between them, “This isn’t a proposal, but it’s a promise. I will be here by your side for as long as you will have me, Sato, and I will be the anchor of lightness that you need for as long as you let me. Won’t you accept me?”

Ushijima had said it so surely, had asked so simply, and how could Tendou deny him? 

“Oui, bien sûr, Toshi, I would take you any way I can,” Tendou nodded, his smile crinkling the corners of his eyes as he took the ring from Ushijima, turning it this way and that.

Ushijima smiled back at him, content to let the red-head devour his newest gift while the athlete made them some food.

“What do you want to eat?” he asked again, and this time he got a thoughtful hum in response.

“I have ingredients for Hayashi rice and Miso soup there,” Tendou answered distractedly, turning the ring over. “Toshi, why does this have an address in... Warsaw? That’s in Poland, right? Wasn’t there a team that gave you an offer there?”

“So you know where home is, too,” Ushijima answered simply.

There was a beat of silence as he puttered around the pans, and then a gasp.

He was prepared for the weight of a full-grown man launching himself at him, but still they toppled over, laughing themselves on the kitchen floor of a little apartment in Lyon, kilometers away from their origin but feeling as if they were home in each other's arms nonetheless.

**Author's Note:**

> The kanji that Tendou uses for ‘toshi’ is 慧, which means _bright, lightness_ while the kanji that Ushijima uses for ‘sato’ is 郷 which means _home, town, village._ It doesn’t really make much sense if you’re a native speaker, but then it doesn’t have to make sense to us for it to work for them, does it? TwT  
>    
>  The title for this one is still, ~~as is usual~~ is from [this Hozier song,](https://open.spotify.com/track/2QsquiKBcjvDUlO6QyvMEs?si=yLuvuuFpSJaTZHhC8crn9w) and my twitter is [@yadoiAngel](https://twitter.com/yadoiAngel) if y’all wanna scream at me about this, and thank you for reading!


End file.
